


Captain America and the Silver Fox

by LilyInTheSnow



Series: Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Come Eating, Dom Bucky Barnes, Forced Orgasm, Gratuitous Smut, Hopeful Ending, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Multiple Orgasms, Older Man/Younger Man, Shrunkyclunks, Silver Fox Bucky, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Sub Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Under-negotiated Kink, like the first two paragraphs, the lightest of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyInTheSnow/pseuds/LilyInTheSnow
Summary: Steve's barely two months out of the ice and not doing all that great. There's too much he's been told he needs to catch up on. He's got a list as long as his arm of things people keep telling him to watch, or read, or listen to and he's not sure where to begin or if he even wants to. Luckily there's someone in the bookstore that takes charge and tells him exactly what he needs.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668754
Comments: 22
Kudos: 361





	Captain America and the Silver Fox

**Author's Note:**

> This began with a post I saw on twitter that I can't find anymore about silver fox Bucky shrunkyclunks. I texted panthergyrl, rambling about how awesome it would be and this is the result. Thank them for the title as well because I suck at titles.
> 
> The under negotiated kink tag is because there's like no negotiation, but Steve wants everything and could say no if he wanted and Bucky would stop if he asked him to.  
> Don't do shit without talking it out first though.

Steve's been out of the ice for a few months. He still doesn't understand most of the things people keep talking to him about. He's tired of it. Still doesn't know what the fuck is going on half the time. People keep giving him suggestions. Read this or watch that or listen to this other thing. There's too many choices. He wishes they had taken his choices away and just told him what to read and in what order. Not give him options for things he didn't understand and wasn't sure he wanted to. 

He's in a Barnes and Noble because he wants the paper books. Real books. He's a lot lost and a bit broken. He sees an older man with mostly silver hair, ice blue eyes, and pouty lips when he turns the corner in the non-fiction section. He's stunning. Tall and lanky and dressed in a blazer and slacks. His white dress shirt has the first few buttons undone and Steve has to fight the urge to go over and lick at his collarbones. He thinks the man is what Natasha told him is a silver fox. God even knows how they got to that point in a conversation where they were talking about types of people they'd like in a relationship, but there it was. Steve had maybe always had a thing for older men and he has to resist another urge to fall to his knees and worship him. Something he definitely couldn't get away with in the bookstore. 

Bucky sees him, and it's just...wow. He's so pretty and looks so lost and maybe Bucky's got a white knight complex or he's just legitimately got a thing for this perfect specimen, but he can see how lost Steve is and it makes his chest tight. Whatever is wrong he wants to fix it. He wants to take care of the blond. Make him not look so lost.

He goes over to talk to the younger man and maybe he stares at his lips more than he should but he can't help but imagine the way they'd look wrapped around his cock, those sad blue eyes blown black with lust, sparkling and full of heat instead of the icy sadness in them now. He introduces himself, learns the pretty blond is named Steve and he's looking for some book or other. Something from a list in a tiny notepad he pulls from his pocket. He gives Bucky a sheepish smile, tells him everyone's been telling him what to read, what to watch, what music to listen to. He rambles a fair bit, gets embarrassed after. Bucky reassures him, can't help but raise his hand to the blush on Steve's face, fingers skimming the apple of his cheek. It's beautiful. He's beautiful. Blushed a pretty pink down his neck and under the buttoned collar of his shirt. A pretty blush that Bucky wants to follow with his mouth. Lips and teeth and tongue following that blush for as far down as it goes.

Steve takes an automatic step back, checks their surroundings. Bucky shushes him gently, tells him it's alright. Takes the notepad from Steve's hand and sticks it in his own pocket. "Come with me," he says, reaching out to take Steve's lax hand. Steve slides his fingers through Bucky's and has a fleeting thought that he'd follow him anywhere.

He doesn't even know the older man, but right now he'd do anything he told him to. Any direction he gave him, Steve would willingly follow. If only not to feel so lost.

Bucky walks with him through the store to the cafe, grabs them both a black coffee after seeing the helpless look on Steve's face as he reads the complicated menu. There's too many choices even for him and he thinks maybe Steve appreciates not having to make a choice between one thing or another. At least for now. Maybe Steve needs the choices taken away from him until he's on his feet better. Maybe he'll tell Bucky to fuck off at some point and make his own decisions and Bucky will let him. He'll let this poor boy do anything he wants. As long as he actually wants to do it, as long as it's his choice and not someone else's.

They talk and Bucky realizes how out of his depth this guy really is. Steve let's slip the Captain America thing. Just to see if Bucky is treating him the way he is because of who Steve is or just because Bucky's that nice to lost people all the time. Bucky doesn't even flinch. Raises a brow like so? And? It doesn't even matter who he is. Though it does explain why he's so lost. Why he looked so panicked at the menu. Why even a cup of black coffee seems like a saving grace.

"Let me buy you dinner," Bucky tells him. A slight commanding edge to his voice. Steve nods automatically. The word yes falling from his lips before the thought fully forms.

And maybe he doesn't trust the older man yet, but something tells him he can. He should. He's going to. Whether it's prudent or not. He's tired of being lost. He wants these choices, all these things he doesn't know or understand, taken away from him.

He goes with Bucky, lets him take him to dinner, lets Bucky order for him. Something simple. Something he'd have eaten on his own before.

Afterward, Bucky lets him make his first and only choice for the rest of the night. "Will you come home with me," he asks. They both know what will happen if he does. Another yes falls from his lips and he rides to Bucky's building, a building Bucky owns but he won't admit that to Steve - not yet, in a midnight blue sports car with blacked out windows. Bucky takes him to the penthouse in his private elevator from the garage. The high shine of the doors lets them see their reflections. Bucky's eyes meet Steve's with quiet resolve. He's in charge. He knows what he's doing. Steve's life could possibly, literally, be in Bucky's hands and Steve would and will let him do whatever he wants to him. Bucky sees it in Steve's eyes. That he would let him do anything he wanted to him.

Bucky wants to do all manner of things to Steve. With Steve. The first thing he does, not even bothering to give Steve a tour of the penthouse because he knows how overwhelming it must be, is order Steve into a bath. He shows him how to use the settings. Tells Steve to use his shampoo, conditioner, body wash. All of it. He tells him to make sure he's clean. Everywhere. The tone of Bucky's voice leaves no doubt as to what he means. Steve nods, turns to start the bath and strips out of his clothes. Bucky takes them up after Steve strips down. He checks Steve's sizes, empties the pockets, and then promptly throws the clothes in the trash except Steve's leather jacket. Steve, a product of the depression, twitches toward the bin, but stops when Bucky raises a brow. "I'm ordering you new clothes. You'll wear them." It's not a suggestion.

"Take as long as you need. There's unlimited hot water. Enjoy your bath." That isn't a suggestion either.

Bucky watches Steve relax into the hot water for a few moments then leaves him be after brushing a gentle kiss over his cheek. He goes into the bedroom and fetches a bottle of lube. Takes it in to Steve and sets it on the edge of the bathtub. Steve blushes when he sees it, but nods and Bucky knows he'll use it.

Bucky then goes to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. Takes it and two glasses with him to the living room. Grabs his laptop. Opens the Macy's website and pokes around a bit before deciding that no clothes off the rack are going to fit Steve. Or be good enough for him. He calls his tailor. Offers him an obscene amount of money to make an immediate house call.

By the time Steve gets out of the bath and wraps himself in a bath sheet there's an army of people and a wall of mirrors in the living room where before there was no one but Bucky. "Bucky?"

Bucky spins toward him with a smile. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Steve blushes, thinks of the silicone based slick he opened himself up with, how good it felt between his fingers, how good it felt as he pressed inside himself. He nods and Bucky grins shamelessly.

"Good. Put a pair of these on." He tosses Steve a pack of boxer briefs. Steve catches them automatically and goes to leave the room. Bucky stops him and for a moment Steve thinks Bucky means for him to put them on in front of everyone, but Bucky points him toward a changing screen. He smiles gratefully and goes behind it to put them on.

Moments later he's surrounded by strangers, measured and poked and prodded, each time he moves he feels the slick between his cheeks. Wonders if they can all tell what he did in the bath. 

As soon as it's over and everyone has gone with the promise of at least two new outfits the next day, Bucky sits on the couch, pats his thighs, wine forgotten in the face of Steve’s ridiculously fit body. Steve immediately straddles his lap, tentatively resting his hands on Bucky's shoulders. Grips tighter when he doesn't tell him off.

"You look like you feel better."

"I do. Thank you."

"You never need to thank me."

"Yes, I do." And Steve kisses him then, lightly at first. He's breaking an unspoken rule by making the choice, but Bucky doesn't stop him. He takes it from Steve. Takes and takes the feather light kisses. Deepens them into something more, giving and taking in turn until Steve is a beautiful, gasping, shuddering, mess of a man. When Bucky finally manages to tear himself away from Steve's mouth he stares into hooded, lust drunk, blue eyes. Gives him a soft kiss that Steve whines into and then leans back and lets himself look his fill.

His eyes trail over broad shoulders and full glorious tits that taper down into a ridiculously tiny waist. A physique that had been hidden under khakis and a button down that didn't fit. He skims his knuckles down Steve's abs, watches as Steve sucks in a breath, abs clenching, and then lets his breath out in a moan when Bucky reaches into the boxer briefs he's most likely gotten slick and definitely precome on, and wraps slightly cool fingers around his cock. Steve shudders, hands gripping Bucky's shoulders tight and rocks up into his hand, unable to help himself. Bucky lets go and Steve whines at the loss.

"Did I tell you to do that, babydoll?"

"No. I'm sorry, Bucky."

"It's okay, babydoll. Next time wait for me."

"Next time?" He had assumed this would be a one-time thing. Something Bucky would only want once. Who would put up with someone so broken long term?

"And all the other times. You'll be mine. The world can't take you. It can't make you fit in. It can't make you be something you're not."

"But I am Captain America, Bucky."

"The world can have Captain America, but it can't have Steve Rogers. He's mine. If he wants to be."

"He does." Steve doesn't even have to think about it. Maybe it's not the best idea, so new to this world he's found himself in, but his gut tells him it's okay. At least for now.

"Good boy." Steve squirms when Bucky starts jerking him off, he barely gets into the rhythm when Bucky pulls his hand out of his boxer briefs then tugs the waistband down under his balls, reaches around and shoves them down in the back, baring his ass. Bucky tugs him closer, a display of strength that belies his slim figure.

Bucky kisses him, guides Steve's hips in a gentle roll, his hard cock gliding over Bucky's dress shirt, leaving shiny trails of precome that turn the fabric translucent and show tiny tantalizing glimpses of his abs, tells him to keep that slow pace. Steve nods, eyes drifting shut, as he concentrates on keeping the gentle rhythm. Bucky's hands leave his hips and Steve gasps at the click of a lid, the sound of slick being poured from a bottle. He moans when Bucky slides slicked up hands over his ass, squeezing tightly, spreading him open. Two fingers slide around his hole, feeling how open he is, though he's not nearly as open as he was right after the bath. He whimpers at the burning stretch when Bucky thrusts those two fingers inside him as he moves.

"You're going to come like this and then I'm going to fuck you."

"Yes," Steve answers. An acknowledgment. A promise. 

Neither of them are sure how long it takes. Bucky’s lost in the way Steve’s body moves, sweat slicked and muscles bunching and stretching as he fucks himself on Bucky’s fingers, against his abs. The little breathless gasps he makes when he moves just right. Steve’s lost to the way Bucky touches him. Like he’s something delicate and precious. Something to be desired. Lost the way Bucky curls his fingers just so, the way his rippling abs feel against his cock. Bucky’s dress shirt has long since gone transparent from Steve’s leaking cock. He’s lost to gentle kisses and murmurs of encouragement. He’s lost to Bucky. And when he comes the older man praises him for being so good. For doing just what he’d said to do.

“You’re so good, babydoll. That was perfect.”

Steve whines and mourns the loss of Bucky’s fingers when he slides them out. Bucky nudges him up on shaking legs then stands with him and leads him to the bedroom. Steve’s legs give out about the time they reach the bed and Bucky lays him down, tosses the bottle of lube on the bed next to his hip. Strips out of his shirt and Steve finally sees how good of a shape Bucky is in. He’s lean, almost a runner’s build, with more muscles than what he looked like he had when covered with his shirt and blazer. Steve watches with rapt attention and drowsy eyes as Bucky slowly unbuckles and removes his belt. He tosses it away, notices the slight pout Steve gives him and God what he wouldn’t give to stripe Steve’s perfect ass in crimson. Maybe later. He shoves his trousers down and kicks them off. Leaves himself in a pair of red boxer briefs like the ones he’d given Steve. 

A trail of silvering hair leads down to the waistband. His cock is hard, straining at the fabric. There’s a wet spot at the tip of his cock and Steve licks his lips as he stares. He wants to taste him. Wants to swallow him down and find out if he tastes as good as he looks. He wants Bucky inside of him. In any way he can have him. In all the ways he can have him. All the ways Bucky will let him.

Bucky shoves his boxer briefs down and Steve follows that trail of silvering hair down to the most beautiful cock he's ever seen. It's long and thick and veiny. Flushed and glistening at the tip. It curves upward toward his abs, twitches when Steve licks his lips. He whines, reaching a hand out before he can stop himself.

Bucky smiles, crawls up the bed, settles between Steve's thighs as he spreads them.

Bucky plasters himself to Steve's body, chest to hip, their cocks lining up perfectly. Steve's hard again already. Still. Bucky's not sure which, but he's not complaining. Whether it's for him or not it's a gift. One he plans to use. He kisses Steve, just a quick peck, then reaches for the nightstand, comes back with a foil packet. Steve shakes his head.

"You don't know where I've been, babydoll."

"I can't…" Steve whines when Bucky rolls his hips, grinds their cocks together. "Can't catch anything."

"Steve." He wonders how many nameless, faceless men his babydoll has been with without protection just because he wanted to feel them. Growls possessively and leans down to give Steve a searing, biting kiss.

"Just you," Steve gasps when Bucky's calmed himself. Shoved that possessive part of himself back inside. Bucky wonders if he'd spoken out loud. "Just need to feel you." 

Bucky watches him closely for a moment, tosses the condom aside. "We're talking about this later."

Steve nods, spreads his legs even further, a plea for Bucky to fuck him. Bucky kisses him again, far more gently than before, palms the lube and pushes himself up to slick his cock. He watches Steve's eyes, blown black with barely a ring of blue around them. Full of fire and need. Not the sad icy blue they'd been in the bookshop. He has a fleeting thought that he should open Steve up more, but he already knows his babydoll won't want that. Not with how he's writhing on the bed, cock flushed an angry red, leaking copiously against his belly. Bucky can't help but lean down and swipe his tongue through the growing pool, an odd sense of pride filling him. He did this. He caused this. This is his.

"Bucky," Steve's quiet gasp barely reaches his ears and he pulls away, grabs the backs of Steve's knees and pushes them up. Holds onto them as he forces his way inside Steve's tight, wet, heat. A whine leaves Steve's lips as he bottoms out. All he can focus on is heat around him, gripping him like a glove, rippling over his cock. It takes him a moment to clear his head, to realize he's got his babydoll bent nearly in half. He pets at sweat soaked skin, kisses each knee then gently lowers them. Steve arches up into him, pressing impossibly closer. His hands are up over his head, gripping the feather pillow tightly. He plants his feet on the bed and writhes. Trying to get Bucky to do more than stare down at him like he's suddenly found something he thought lost.

"That's enough of that," Bucky tells him. It's not nearly as stern as he means it to be. He's too breathless for anything more than a whisper. His babydoll still minds him. Stops his squirming, but keeps his tight grip on the pillow. Bucky rewards him with a slow, deep grind that has him arching back off the bed with a wanton cry when Bucky's cock hits his prostate. "Like that, babydoll?" Steve nods quickly and on the next slow grind, tears through the pillow. He starts babbling an apology, one Bucky quiets with a gentle kiss and a hand around his leaking cock. He doesn't stroke him, just holds him to feel the blood pounding through his veins, the kicks and twitches it makes when Bucky hits his prostate again and again. He looks between them, sees how wet his babydoll's cock is, how wet his fingers are getting from holding him. He hits his prostate again, watches another spurt of precome dribble down his knuckles. Does it again to get the same results. He dips his thumbnail into the slit and Steve tenses up with a sob as he comes. Bucky moans at how easy his babydoll comes for him, lets go of his cock and slides two come soaked fingers into Steve's mouth. Lust drunk and slack.

"You with me, sweetheart?" Steve nods slowly, lips closing over his fingers as he licks his own spunk off the digits. "One more," he whispers, kissing Steve's mouth next to his fingers. He pulls back, licking come from his lips and Steve cries when he pulls his fingers from his mouth. He tosses Steve's legs over his shoulders, those pale knees trembling as he smooths his hands down his babydoll's thighs. He scoops up more come and gives Steve his fingers again, groaning as the blond sucks at them. He can't wait to have those lips wrapped around his cock. He wants Steve on his knees in front of him, staring up at him as he feeds him his cock. Wants to see his baby blues bright with tears as he forces himself into Steve's throat.

He shudders, fucks into his babydoll as far as he can go, pulls out and does it again and again. Lost to the vision in his head, the way Steve trembles, shudders, clings to his cock, trying to keep him inside. Feathers drift down the bed, tangle in Steve's hair, stick to sweat slicked skin. Steve's hard again already, writhing and crying and Bucky reaches down with his free hand, wraps his fingers around his babydoll's perfect cock and strokes him, counterpoint to his thrusts. Teeth scrape his fingers after a brutal thrust against Steve's prostate and he pulls them from his mouth. "Easy, sweetheart." 

Steve babbles an apology again, words barely discernible as Bucky fucks him. He quiets him gently, murmuring words of praise and comfort that have the blond sobbing, more tears streaking down his temples. Tears Bucky wants to lick and kiss away, taste the salt on his skin, but can't just now. Not while he's giving his babydoll what he needs. Instead he drags his tongue over the skin of Steve's leg, moans at the taste of salt and the scent of his body wash. His claim on the blond that sends him reeling. Sends him closer to his own orgasm, bringing it ever closer. The slap of skin on skin, Steve's cries, the clenching of Steve's hole around his cock, all of it working him toward that final precipice, that final rise before he falls, empties himself inside the tight heat he can't bear to leave. Even still it comes as a shock, one that has him crying out and burying himself as deeply as he can. Steve's cries join his as he drags him over with him, a weak trickle of come this time, dribbling down his fingers. 

He all but collapses on top of the blond who immediately wraps him in his arms and holds him close as they shudder through the aftershocks. They trade gentle breathless kisses, petting whatever bit of skin is within reach until Bucky rouses himself enough to go draw a bath for them.

Steve protests him leaving the bed, protests that he gentles away with the promise of a swift return. He turns on the water in the tub, leaves the en suite to fetch a few bottles of water, combs his fingers through sweat soaked blond strands as he makes him drink. He takes one for himself then helps his babydoll to the bath. Gets him settled then climbs in behind him, pulls him into the V of his legs and holds him tight as Steve rests his head back against his shoulder.

They sit for a while, drowsy and content in the steaming water, before Bucky washes them. Gently scrubbing with a washcloth. He washes Steve's hair and then his own. Washes the slick and come from between Steve's thighs, carefully cleans his abused hole, makes quiet shushing sounds at Steve's tiny pained whimpers when he cleans his cock, finally gone soft. He scoots Steve up some, washes himself then stands and pulls him up with him. He grabs a bath sheet and wraps around the blond then steps out of the bath and helps him out. He takes his time drying him off and gives himself a less than perfunctory rub down with the same bath sheet then leads him back to the bedroom. He sits his babydoll down in the chair in the corner then removes the soiled bedding and loose feathers before replacing it with clean and an extra pillow from the linen closet. He then helps Steve to the bed, lays him down and snuggles him close. There's still a few feathers scattered about; he imagines there will be until the cleaners come. Smiles at the looks he imagines they'll have on their faces when they see the mess he and his babydoll have caused. Fierce pride burns in his chest for making Steve let go. Making him lose control. Steve could rip apart a thousand pillows and Bucky would only buy more.

"Will you keep me?"

He barely hears the whispered words and his heart breaks at the sadness in them. He wants to promise Steve that he will. That he'll always keep him and take care of him. Give him what he needs. Give him the world. Give him all the things he never dreamt he'd have. But he can't. Not now. Not when Steve can't possibly realize what he's asking.

"We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart. No decisions tonight."

"Do you not want to?" Bucky sighs at the first sniffle, combs his fingers through Steve's hair. 

"Shh. No tears, babydoll." He murmurs reassurances until the tears stop, until Steve falls asleep, all tension leaving his body. He looks even younger like this. The lines of his face are softer, the crease between his brows is gone. He looks peaceful. So far from how miserable he had looked in the bookstore. Bucky kisses his babydoll's hair and lays awake for a long while thinking of the talk they'll have to have in the morning. The decisions they'll have to make. He kisses Steve's hair a final time before sleep claims him.

Steve gets a call the next morning. Waking him from where he's snuggled up against the older man. He groans and starts to get up to go in search of the flimsy flip phone they gave him. Bucky's hand tightens on his hip and he relaxes back onto the bed.

"Is it an emergency?"

"No. There's an alarm for that apparently."

"Then it can wait." Bucky snuggles up even closer to him than he already was. "Go back to sleep, babydoll."

Steve wakes up again hours later. Bucky's gone from the bed, but he can hear him moving around the apartment. He gets out of bed and pulls on a robe that's been draped over the end and walks into the living room in time to hear a knock on the door. Bucky gives him a happy smile when he sees him wearing the robe then goes to open the door. Natasha is on the other side. Any bit of happiness Steve had so far dies. They want him for something, then, if they've sent her after him. 

Bucky refuses to let her into the apartment. Not after seeing the light in Steve's eyes die when he sees the shield agent.

"Is it an emergency?"

She stares at him for a long moment, judging him, it feels like. "No."

"Then you can't have him."

"Steve?"

"I'm fine, Agent Romanov."

"You don't get to have him."

"And you do?"

"Bucky, maybe I should-" Bucky cuts him off. Already knowing enough about him that he'd sacrifice whatever happiness he's found for doing what he thinks is right.

"Steve, go make some coffee. Agent Romanov and I need to have a word."

"If you want me to use your coffee maker you're going to have to teach me how."

"The instruction manual is in the drawer by the fridge, babydoll."

"Okay." Steve gives him a quick kiss, ignores the look Romanov gives them, then walks into the kitchen leaving Bucky and Natasha alone.

"Whose fucking idea was it to integrate him by giving him a list of shit he needed to catch up on? Trying to force all this shit on him?"

"Not mine."

"Don't try to pretend you're not a part of it."

"He needs to acclimate."

"Well he sure as shit isn't going to do it like this!" Bucky goes to grab Steve's notebook. Shows her all of the things Steve has written down in it. "This isn't good for him."

"And you know what is?"

"Yes." The tone of his voice is vehement. He won't let them use Steve. Not like they want to. Anyone with a brain could see how lost he is. How broken and alone. Afraid. Until Bucky's given him orders, at least. Was that always how Steve was? Or is it something new since he's come out of the ice? Either way, he'll help Steve. Help him as much as he's able, as much as Steve will let him. He'll need more than Bucky can give him at some point. But for now it's enough. He's enough. And no one is going to take his babydoll from him until Steve is ready to let him go.

Natasha eyes him for a long moment, flicks her eyes toward the kitchen where they can hear Steve puttering around even though she can't see him from where they're standing in the door.

"How long?"

"As long as he wants."

"Okay." She hands him a card, blank except for a phone number. "If you need something." He nods. They both know he won't use her number. He shuts the door quietly when she leaves and Steve comes back into the living room carrying two mugs of coffee.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, babydoll. I saw the light in your eyes go out when you saw her. Figured you didn't want to go just yet." He leads Steve over to the couch and sits him down. Cuddles him close, but still leaves enough room to see his face.

"I didn't. I don't. I want them to leave me alone." He looks shocked at the admission. Like he didn't know what he wanted until he said it. "I don't want to be their soldier. I gave everything to them and they still want more."

"Don't make a rash decision, sweetheart."

"I'm not. Not really."

"Are you staying with me?"

"Can I?"

"We have things to talk about first, but after, if you still want to, then yes."

"Okay."

They'll talk. Decide their future. Together or separately, but Bucky already knows what decision Steve will make. He won't take advantage. He's Steve's until Steve decides otherwise. Until Steve decides he's ready to move on or to change the nature of their relationship. For now he'll do what he can to help him and it will be enough. For the both of them.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! <3


End file.
